A high-society romance where pretense turned into reality.
 
Van, the heir to a top-tier fortune and a regular on the front page of the Wall Street Journal, had been mocked for being perpetually single, with even rumors swirling about his "dysfunction."
 
Winnie, a Hollywood superstar desperate to escape her constant barrage of scandals, encountered this billionaire worth tens of billions. To her surprise, Van presented her with an unexpected proposal:
 
"Pretend to date me for a year. You won't have to do anything else. I'll pay you $100 million after taxes."
 
She planned to laugh it off but couldn't ignore the man's chiseled features—the way his shadowed face was lit up as he casually raised an eyebrow and lit a cigarette in the glow of firelight, his voice steady and laced with danger.
 
She remembered their first meeting in a torrential downpour—the man reclining in a silver Maybach, eyes half-closed, exuding charm yet utterly unattainable. She also remembered later, when everyone had believed him to be unshakable and untouchable, he had appeared alone, worn and weary, at her remote desert film set, quietly asking:
 
"Do you really have to shoot this kiss scene?"
 
Behind this contract lay something far deeper than money—a fixation, a love that had turned real, or perhaps an irresistible force neither of them had recognized.
 
$100 million had set the stage for a high-stakes battle of love and hate that would ultimately unravel.

A Love Confession from Las Vegas

Van's anger flared when he heard this, and he stared at her for a long moment before, without warning, reaching out and placing his hand on her forehead.


"Your fever still hasn't gone down. Take some more medicine." This was the best excuse he could come up with.


Winnie choked on her words, and a hint of red slowly appeared on her pale face. Just as she was about to argue, Van calmly added, stretching out his hand, "Give me your passport."


"Still planning to run?" Van lowered his head slightly, locking his gaze on hers.


Winnie flushed with embarrassment. "I'm not running, I swear... but can I not give you my passport?"


Her passport was tightly clenched in her palm. It had been newly replaced and should have looked crisp and fresh, but the cover had already been wrinkled from the way she had just handled it. Handing over this passport, which seemed to betray her emotions, made her feel deeply embarrassed.


Chapter 78